Fathers, Part Three
It had been my hope, our Internet connection having been accidentally shut off along with our cable by the morons at Adelphia on Saturday evening, thus leaving me with no way to update from home, that I would have time at work on Monday, during a short fifteen minute break, to write a two-part entry on my thoughts regarding the strange convergence of paternal storylines in my life over the weekend. That didn’t happen. There was simply too much to do.
And then I found out that another of my friends had lost a father that very day. And all those familiar feelings of dread that I’d managed to escape on Sunday came flooding back to me. For the second time in three days, I needed to put on a movie to lull myself to sleep.
I was sure that there was something beautiful and profound waiting to spill out of me when I finally got around to writing these three entries, but there’s nothing. I feel empty and tired and scared. I definitely need a drink now. But I think a pastry from one of the shops downstairs will have to do.